My Most Egregious Little Lord
by Mr. Spears
Summary: Sebastian has been running behind schedule for a week now, and everyone is feeling it... especially his young master. Ciel has been acting like a little brat even more so than usual, and Sebastian is not going to stand for it. Following the 'plotline' of "There is No Mercy", now deemed the "Hunger of Legion" series. A one-shot Sebaciel. Rated M for strong adult content and non-con.


The day had begun as all others before it, with a two scoops of Darjeeling tea steeping in an elegant pot. It was accompanied by a freshly baked scone, perfect in that the light brown crust was crisp and crisp while the flesh was light, fluffy, and cooled to the perfect temperature where it would not burn the young earl's sensitive mouth. Arranged artfully beside the scone were exactly three peach slices, a compliment to the Darjeeling.

The silverware was polished to a shine. The linen napkin was folded just so beside the porcelain plate, a rigid triangle of supple fabric. Sebastian lifted the tray with care, turning on his heel to walk out of the kitchen and up the grand staircase to his master's bedroom.

Everything was running perfectly, only they were precisely a minute behind schedule.

It had been this way ever since that fateful night at the Lord Grey's ball. Almost a week had passed and Sebastian had not been able to put his routine back on the rails. It was affecting the entire household, and was visible especially in the young master. The Earl Phantomhive had been especially irritable, acting more his age than Sebastian normally approved. It was tiresome, really.

He entered the young earl's room with the tray, setting it down on a small bedside table and walking over to the tall windows. Sebastian grasped the thick velvet curtains in his satin-gloved hands and pulled them apart, listening for the satisfactory _swoosh_ of rings over the curtain rod as sunlight streamed in, the early hour only able to yield pale, feeble beams.

Ciel Phantomhive rolled over onto his side, dragging a pillow over his face and moaning. Sebastian sighed softly, a completely inaudible sound. When he turned to face the earl's bed, a ghost of a smile was playing on his lips.

"Good morning, my lord." Sebastian said, walking over to the bed and picking up the pillow by its middle, pinching up the fabric and transferring it back to the other side of the bed, letting it land with a soft thump. Ciel looked up at his butler through messy black bangs, his small face scrunched up in a scowl.

"Let me sleep." The young earl snipped. "I barely slept at all last night."

"That is unfortunate, my lord." Sebastian said, taking hold of Ciel's arm gently. He pulled the young earl up far enough to adjust the pillows behind him. When Ciel fell back against them, he was sitting up comfortably. "I have brought you Darjeeling tea and a scone, accompanied by fresh peach slices. I thought you might desire a whisper of summer on this dreary winter morning."

Ciel scoffed, that soft _tsking_ sound he always made under his breath. Sebastian found it particularly irritating this morning, but he said nothing as he set the young earl's breakfast tray across his lap. He then glided over to the wardrobe, grasping the wrought iron handles and pulling the doors open. He was hit by the overwhelming smell of cedar as he reached inside and withdrew an expensive burgundy coat.

"What appointments do I have today?" Ciel asked, feigning interest in anything remotely important as he picked up his scone and bit into a corner. A few rebellious crumbs fell from his mouth and onto his lap. Sebastian eyed them, his red eyes flashing as he laid out a cream colored shirt on top of the coat.

"You only had one appointment today, my lord, and they have seen fit to cancel." The demon butler said, draping a pressed cravat out next to the arrangement of clothing. "Might I suggest you use the free time to your advantage, and glance over the latest reports?"

Ciel gave him a haughty look, blowing the steam from the surface of his tea demurely before taking his first sip.

"Do not presume to tell me how I should spend my time." He said.

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian paused in his task to touch his lapel, bowing slightly from the waist. "Your forgiveness."

Ciel scoffed again, taking another sip of his tea before setting his cup down. It clinked against the saucer.

"I am not hungry," the young earl said, turning his head to glance out the window. "Take it back."

"My lord, it would beseem you to eat." Sebastian set out a pair of the earl's black shorts, and the matching garters for his black silk stockings.

"I do not care for what you might think _beseems_ me." The earl's lip curled, and he swiped his hand irritably through the air. "Take it back to the kitchen, I cannot stand the smell of it. Then return to help me dress."

Sebastian walked back over to him, lifting the tray from the young earl's lap obediently. Ciel tightened his jaw and waited for Sebastian to leave, but the demon butler did not. He set the tray back down on the table beside Ciel's bed.

Firm fingers grasped his chin, one resting just underneath it, pressed against the soft, vulnerable spot. Ciel gasped in surprise, his head tilting back against his will to meet Sebastian's eyes.

Sebastian frowned. His expression was one of soft concern, but his eyes were empty.

"You do not look well." He said.

"What are you talking about?" Ciel snarled, turning his head to yank it away. "I am perfectly…!"

"Perhaps it would be best for you to remain in bed." Sebastian abandoned the bedside, walking back over to the curtains and drawing them closed. "I will put these clothes away, and I will fetch you a clean nightshirt."

"Sebastian!" Ciel growled through his teeth.

Sebastian paused. His back was turned to the young earl, his hands resting at his sides.

A picture of serenity and grace, that man. His index finger twitched with agitation.

"Yes, my lord?" Sebastian asked, and performed a quarter-turn, glancing at his young master through his peripherals.

The words lingered heavily in the air, a subtle challenge to the young earl's authority.

Ciel sucked in a deep breath, his tiny chest rising and falling visibly with the effort.

"I do not wish to stay in bed." The young lord said. "You will bring me my clothes. And then I wish to play billiards."

"And I suppose you will order me to let you win, also." Sebastian said, turning around completely to face his master. His smile was amused, his eyes were steel.

"Oh course not." Ciel leaned back on his pillows. "Do not be insulting."

He never saw Sebastian move. But when he looked up, the demon was hovering over him, his knees pressed into the bed on either side of Ciel's thighs, his hands on the pillows.

Sebastian lowered his head, brushing his lips over the shell of Ciel's ear. Ciel closed his eyes and his breathe hitched. He fought against his instinct to pull back, but his racing pulse was evident in the throbbing of his jugular. The demon butler could taste the fear on his master's skin.

Sebastian had done this a few times before. It never ended well for the young earl. But he would be damned if he let his emotions seep through his emotionless mask, as much as he struggled every day to match the butler's stoic countenance, his unshakeable poise.

It was a lot to keep up with, and for such a small boy.

"Sebastian…" Ciel closed his eyes, tilting his head back and exposing his throat, knowing it pleased the demon for him to do so. Sebastian touched the back of Ciel's head, slipping his hands into the child's thick, dark hair while brushing lips over his jaw, traveling down his neck. "Sebastian," Ciel said again, breathless. "Not now."

He might as well have not spoken at all. Satin-gloved hands picked up the hem of his nightshirt, drawing it up his thighs. Sebastian glanced down at them; quivering, pale, and so fragile in their appearance. The demon smiled, and took hold of Ciel's hips, dragging him down until he was lying flat on his back. Sebastian pressed his lips to the inside of Ciel's thigh and bit down, hard enough to draw blood.

Ciel screamed. "Sebastian! I order you to…!"

Sebastian's hand shot up, and three of his fingers slipped into the young lord's childish, pink little mouth. Ciel's eyes widened and his hands flew up to grab Sebastian's wrist, choking on the fingers that so effectively silenced his screams. Using his free hand, Sebastian lifted the nightshirt higher, enough to expose a light pink nipple – erect with the sudden chill.

Sebastian slid his hot tongue over the nipple's point, pulling it into his mouth, sucking on it. Ciel moaned around the demon's fingers, sliding back down into the pillows. His hands fell uselessly to his sides, defeated.

"Already giving up?" Sebastian pulled his head up and whispered, "I was hoping for more of a fight." He lowered his head again and bit down on the soft areola. "You cannot promise such a sweet delight as resistance and then not deliver."

Ciel made a shrill sound of protest, bucking his hips as if that would do much to further his cause of pushing the demon butler away.

"Yes," Sebastian said, having the gall to feign sympathy. "I know you hate it. Almost as much as you hate doing as you are told." He pulled the young earl's head down to meet his gaze, and said quietly, "Yet you have been a cheeky little lord all week. And you are in sore need of some discipline." He ripped his fingers out of Ciel's mouth, only to claim it with a brutal kiss – his tongue piercing resistant childish lips, already shiny and wet.

Ciel brought his open hand down across the demon's face. Sebastian gripped both of the young earl's wrists and slammed them down against the bed, pinning them just above his head – the next kiss the demon claimed was more demanding, Ciel's gagging on his tongue.

"Stop!" Ciel gasped when Sebastian pulled his mouth away. His face was red. He was furious and humiliated, and what was more… he was frightened. The demon who loomed over him was a preternatural being, he knew that. Sometimes he forgot that the man who poured his tea every morning was not a man at all, but a hungry, black creature hiding behind velvet words and a gentleman's skin.

Sebastian's smile was vicious.

"You could order me to stop now, my lord." He said. "Unless it is your desire to be whipped like a scullery brat."

He never raised his voice above a gentle croon. Ciel was getting sick of his calm, sadistic demeanor.

"You are vile," Ciel snarled, his hands still effectively pinioned to the bed. "Your perversions run as deep as the hell you sprang from."

"The young master does protest, I think, too much." Sebastian released Ciel's wrists, sliding his hands down to Ciel's hips again, fingertips sliding down the steep curve. "One might be tempted to say you enjoy it."

Ciel sat up suddenly, raising his hand to bring it down on the demon again. Sebastian caught it mid-air, twisting it awkwardly. Ciel ground his teeth stubbornly against the pain. Sebastian brought his free hand up, as if he were going to return the blow. Ciel cringed visibly, yet glared up at the demon as if daring him to try.

Sebastian sighed.

"I hate it when you try to goad me into hitting your face." The demon said, lowering his hand. "You know that I do not like to."

"You are a coward," Ciel spat.

"In this case," Sebastian said smoothly, "the color of the bruise would not match your coat." He released Ciel and then pulled back, ready to stand.

"Sebastian!" Ciel barked the order. Sebastian froze, keeping his gaze steady on the young earl, waiting.

Ciel clenched the sheets in his tiny fists. "Finish it."

Sebastian lifted a finely arched brow.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Finish it. I _order you_ to finish what you have started." Ciel said, his face turning a deeper shade of red. Whether it was from anger, embarrassment, or heat it was impossible to tell. "Do not be a coward."

Sebastian gave him a long look, and then lowered his eyes, smiling reticently, he touched his lapel.

When he lifted his head, there was nothing short of malice in his expression.

And then his hands were underneath the young lord. Sebastian gripped his young master's firm, tight ass, lifting it up off the bed. Ciel cried out in surprise and gripped the sheets tighter, his gasps turning into moans as Sebastian slid his mouth over the entirety of Ciel's shaft; taking cock, balls and all at once.

"Sebastian!" Ciel called out, squeezing his eyes shut. Sebastian pulled his mouth away, the young lord's cock now slick and bobbing to life, erect with so little stimulation needed. Sebastian smiled and snaked his long, hot tongue over the bottom of the shaft, skating it over the throbbing vein. Ciel whimpered helplessly and turned his head to the side. Sebastian slid his mouth over the young lord's cock again, taking it all the way to the base, and sucked it hard, sliding up and down the shaft, pulling off only long enough to slip his tongue over the head.

Ciel was past speaking. He choked when he felt Sebastian's lips around him, sucking hard like he could drink Ciel's soul this way. Ciel's face turned bright red as his back arched and his hips thrust involuntarily forward, his orgasm crashing into him in waves, making his cock throb and his balls ache. Despite the intensity, he could only manage a bead of clear fluid to show for what had been accomplished. Sebastian licked it away, and kissed the young earl – piercing, deep.

When they parted, their eyes met. Ciel refusing to look away from the demon's face, searching for a trace of emotion. He found only cool professionalism and the tiniest trace of self-satisfaction.

This entire encounter…and Sebastian had never even undressed.

"Shall I get you a clean nightshirt, my lord?" Sebastian asked, sliding away from the young earl. Ciel pulled his existing nightshirt up over his head, ripping it away and throwing it down onto the floor beside his bed as he couldn't stand even the fabric brushing against his skin.

His whole body was alive, and on fire.

"The burgundy coat." Ciel said. "And my new shoes. The ones we bought in town yesterday."

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord." He said, and turned to do as he was bid.

"I want to play billiards," the young master continued. "You will play with me. And I want something sweet. And," he glanced at the tray on the table beside him, disdainfully "I want some more tea. This dross is cold."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian reached into the wardrobe and pulled out Ciel's new shoes, the black leather polished to the point where one could likely see their face in the surface.

The master was back to acting his age. How dreadfully disappointing.

Sebastian set the shoes down and closed the wardrobe doors with a soft _click._

Perhaps that whipping would come soon, after all.


End file.
